How I Came To Be Dead
by McVinster
Summary: The life story of Deadite, the zombie archer.


It's not easy being dead. People treat you strangely, sometimes fear you and don't respect your opinions. Really, I am just like any other living, breathing person, just without the living or breathing.

Just lately there's been some whispers going around about me, so I thought I would sit down and put my story to paper in my own words. You can read it as fiction if you wish, but I assure you that whatever happens, however fantastic or ridiculous it sounds, it did happen to me.

I should start at the beginning, I guess, with where I was born. There's nothing special in this part, really, I don't remember much anyway, other than me name was Melanie back then, the rest I have been told. I was born to two perfectly normal Elf parents, I don't remember their faces now, and grew up in a perfectly normal way in the treetops of The City of Plume. I was an only child, but I grew up among many cousins and friends of all ages, as is the Elf custom. We played together and we learned together, the history of our people, remedies and foods we could forage from the wilds, but I do remember my favourite lessons were always flying.

There's nothing quite like the rush of summoning your wings and pushing off from the ground, to feel the wind's soft caress against your skin as you find a thermal and fly up and up so fast it's almost dizzying. Those first few flights were scary towards the end, when you felt your mana begin to drain and you knew you would have to land soon, but you would push it as far as you could, always leaving that last little dive when you were drained, gliding down so fast and landing just as your wings would disappear. All Elf children long for the day they can master flight and stay airborne forever if they wished, but my wish came true sooner than I had expected.

I had not long begun my training as an Archer, the protectors of the Elves, when there was a call for me to see the Elder of our people. This is my clearest memory of my childhood, which is strange to me now, but it had seemed so important at the time that it stuck so vividly in my mind. The Elder told me about an expedition that had been sent to collect herbs and materials from a few of the local animals and rancor. They had been gone for longer than expected and there was concern for both the Elves who were missing and that the materials they had been sent out for were needed urgently.

I know what you're thinking, I thought the same, and I asked too. Why send me? An Archer barely into training and not able to sustain her wings for longer than an hour. The Elder confided in me then that the bulk of their trained defence soldiers were to go away to defend a territory in the south the very next day and the rest were needed to maintain security within the city from the constant threat of the rancor. So she was sending me, the best, if not the eldest of the Archers in training on reconnaissance.

I was given strict instructions then that I was not to fight if it was avoidable, but simply to assess the situation, offer any help I could if I found the Elves and to return with news of them. I was given a simple bow from the armoury and sent back to my family to tell them I was leaving. My father and uncles had been assigned to the City Guard so my mother was alone in our house when I came in. I remember that she had been crying, but I can't picture her face for sure, just the silver tracks of her tears as she wordlessly handed me a tiny box.

Inside that box was a pendant, tiny even in my nimble hands. It was a tiny golden heart with blue and red wings so small and delicate they looked like they would snap with a breath, but I knew Elven craftsmanship was stronger than it appeared and so I slipped the necklace around my neck and felt a strange warming sensation pass over me. Outside of my home, I walked to the edge of the platform on which it stood and closed my eyes to summon my wings and glide down. The sensation was different this time from what it normally felt like, warmer and less tiring, yet the rush was greater and took my breath away. I fell forwards, over the edge, in panic, my arms and legs flailing uselessly for a hold on something, anything. But leaves came off of the branches in my hands, green and gold flashing before me as I fell for what seemed like minutes on end. I saw the ground below me coming up fast and my eyes closed themselves, waiting for the inevitable, but it never came. Instead I felt my hands and knees graze the ground lightly, a pull from the centre of my back that I hadn't expected caught my attention and I looked over my shoulder. There they were, a magnificent pair of blue and red wings supporting my weight with gentle movements. That was the first time that my mothers wings had saved me.


End file.
